My mom likes to tell the story* of how she forgot to latch the front door one day when I was a baby. She got in the shower and I made my break for freedom. When she got out, the door was wide open and I was nowhere to be found. She raced out of the house, towel flapping, to find me half a block away, waddling straight down the middle of the street in my diaper, trailed by a nice lady in a car who wanted to make sure I got back where I belonged.
Thanks, nice lady. BUT I BELONG ON THE ROAD, YO.
* I like to say this is proof of my adventurous spirit, but it’s probably just proof that people should lock their doors around me.
My adventures of the past few years have been of the smaller, more internal variety. I won’t say I’ve forgotten how, but I will say that I got thrown for a loop my first week in Costa Rica. There were a lot of emotions and most of them were confusing. I’m-never-going-home-again giddiness! Send-me-back-to-my-friends-right-now loneliness! Quesadillas-for-breakfast glee! Where-the-effing-hell-are-all-the-vegetables discontent! Why-am-I-having-any-negative-emotions-at-all-because-I’m-in-Costa-Rica self hatred! OH-MY-GOD-LOOK-AT-THE-VIEW-THAT-COMES-WITH-MY-BACON mania! Many of these emotions happened within a few minutes of each other and, goodness, that gets exhausting.
But emotions don’t get left at the airport and insomnia will happen when you drink six cups of coffee a day because surprise! COFFEE IN COSTA RICA IS REALLY, REALLY GOOD.
Also, There’s This
I like it when the sand reflects the sky. It does that really well here. Good job, beach.
Even if I have to be glued to my laptop, even if I have more emotions than I prefer, even if I’m not exploring as much as I’d like, I’m still here. And that’s what counts.